The Tale That Changes With The Telling
by MyLadyScribbler
Summary: Two young travelers, journeying incognito through Hyrule, stop for the night at an inn. While they are there, a wise old storyteller named Impa treats a packed audience to stories of a hero named Link and a princess named Zelda.


Imagine, if you will, the people of Hyrule gathering around the hearth of an evening and telling stories of Link and Zelda's adventures. What might it sound like?

This story doesn't belong to one particular timeline in the games - I actually use this story to (gently) poke fun at the long-running debates over canon.

 **xLoZx**

The two horses, damp and weary from the long day's travels through the mists, clip-clopped their way into the stable yard behind the village inn as night began to fall.

The horses' riders, a man and a woman barely out of their teens, were well-wrapped against the elements in heavy cloaks: forest green for the man and bluish-purple for the woman. Even so, they looked just as wet and exhausted as their mounts did.

"I'll go sign us in," the woman said, slipping out of her horse's saddle.

She ran inside as the man held the horses' reins. One of the horses, a chestnut mare, stamped and whinnied fretfully. "Easy, there, Epona," the man whispered, tugging on the mare's bridle and stroking her nose.

Soon, the horses were rubbed down and safely ensconced in the inn's stable, nose-deep in buckets of oats with good woolen horse blankets on their backs. Only then did the man and the woman go into the inn's dining room and see to their own stomachs.

The inn could always be counted on for a generous board, and tonight was no exception. There were tureens of rich warming stews on the tables, with baskets of bread fresh from the oven and bowls of butter and honey alongside. To drink, there were flagons of ale, mead, wine or water from the spring, whatever the drinker's taste ran to.

"You've arrived on a good night," the innkeeper said cheerfully as she served the two travelers. "Old Impa - the storyteller, do you know her? She's going to be holding court in the big room in the next little while." She grinned. "I'll bet she's going to be telling the Link and Zelda stories."

The innkeeper went back to check on the cooks and helpers in the kitchen. The two travelers looked at each other meaningfully.

"This ought to be interesting," the woman said dryly as she scooped up another spoonful of stew.

A large crowd had started to assemble in the inn's cavernous main room. The children in the crowd mostly sat cross-legged on the floor near the stone fireplace while the adults looked around for space on the chairs and benches.

The two travelers found seats together off to one side, but still with a good view of the best chair set up next to the fireplace.

Impa entered and took her seat in the best chair, as if she were a queen ascending her throne. She was a wizened, white-haired old lady in a black dress.

But as she began to spin the first tale of the evening, she spoke with energy and brio, dramatically gesturing with her walking stick. And the audience listened with rapt attention.

"…it was then that Link finally came to the foot of Death Mountain, the lair of Ganon. And he fought his way up the mountain and through the dungeons, battling all manner of monsters and demons, until he finally came to the evil king's skull-shaped sanctum."

The audience oohed.

"On and on the battle went, until at long last, Link defeated the wicked Ganon. And then he found the princess Zelda in the chamber just beyond." Impa beamed. "He freed her. And two of the three lost pieces of the Triforce were united, and peace began to return to Hyrule."

The room erupted in applause.

"So what happened then?" a girl asked. "There was another Zelda, right? One who'd been asleep for a long time?"

"Indeed there was, child," Impa said. And then she launched into another tale without skipping a beat, telling of how Link battled his way through the six well-guarded palaces to find the last piece of the Triforce.

"But his worst enemy was yet to come. For there, in the chamber with the last fragment, Link's own shadow jumped out of his body, drawing its own sword to strike. And on and on they fought - it was a terrible duel, for they each knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. This new enemy frightened Link more than any of the others that came before. But in time, it too was defeated, and it was with the last piece of Triforce that Link returned home at last."

Another round of applause.

"Let's hear the one about the Ocarina of Time next!" someone shouted.

"No, I want to hear the one about the seven sages!" another person chimed in.

But a merchant sitting near the front of the room shook his head. "All these stories that barely fit together. I mean, each one completely turns the other on their heads. That's no way to tell stories, I say."

Some murmurs and grumbles arose among the audience, as some agreed with the merchant and some disagreed.

"Well, I think he's got a point," the baker's assistant said of the merchant. "I heard one story about Link settling down with that girl Marin on Koholint Island!"

"Oh, you got it all wrong, Braymer!" the blacksmith snorted. "The Wind Fish made the whole island disappear and turned Marin into a seabird or some such!"

"Oh, that was all some crazy dream!" a teenage boy in scholar's robes said in a know-it-all voice. "Anyway the stories can't even decide who raised Link. His uncle or his grandma or some group of pixies in the forest!"

"And what about Malon, or Midna?" someone asked. "Wasn't one of them his lady love?"

"No way!" a girl in her early teens protested. "Link and Zelda were always meant to be together!" Several other teens in the room loudly voiced their approval of this.

"Zelda wasn't even a princess, what I heard!" a seamstress chimed in. "She and Link were childhood playmates in some sky kingdom!"

Well, with all these contradicting claims, it wasn't too long before a full-throated argument erupted about "canon," and "timeline," and "alternate universes." Until Impa rapped her stick on the floor for attention. Clearly this wasn't the first time she'd heard all this.

"What is a legend, my children, but a tale that changes with the telling?" Impa asked pleasantly. "It is a story of what was and what is, but also the what could have been and the what could be."

"But how do we know which is which?" a boy asked. "Which is the 'what is' and which is the 'what could be?'"

"Oh, now that has always been a bit of a mystery, ever since the time of the first storytellers of Hyrule, maybe longer." Impa reached for her goblet of water and took a sip. "Some days, a story might tell you that at the archery contest, the hero won a golden arrow to present to his lady as the queen of the fair. Other days, it will tell you that the prize was a silver hunting horn." She set her goblet down. "That's the wonderful thing about a story, one that is passed around the way all of our favorite legends have been. It is not a static thing set in stone, but a living, breathing thing, as changing as the skies and the seasons."

Impa leaned forward. "As a matter of fact," she said, "there may well have been a dozen Links over the centuries, and an equal number of Zeldas. I wouldn't be surprised if there might be one or two walking among us right now," she said with a knowing look in the direction of the two travelers in their corner.

She settled back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "This much we can agree on, dear listeners. At the center of most of the tales is a boy named Link, a girl named Zelda, and a land called Hyrule. Beyond that…well, anything may be possible."

Silence fell over the room for a moment.

"Impa?" a little girl sitting near the fireplace asked. "Can you tell the story of the Skyward Sword?"

"But of course, child. I think I've got enough voice in me for another tale or two," Impa said. "You there - you've got an ocarina with you, don't you? I think this tale calls for a little music."

A boy sitting up on the mantelpiece over the fireplace pulled an ocarina out of his pocket and began to play a slow, mournful tune as Impa began to speak.

It was quite late at night when the storytelling finally finished, and the crowd began to dissipate. Parents scooped up sleepy children and slung them over their shoulders, and courting couples left arm in arm.

Only Impa and the two travelers were left.

"It's good to see you again, my dears," Impa said, going over to them for a hug and a peck on the cheek. "I trust you enjoyed yourselves this evening?"

"We always do, Impa," the man said.

"You've a long voyage ahead of you, I know, and a mission to be done for the kingdom," Impa said. "But it is your role in the turning of the wheel, just as storytelling is my own work. Until we meet again, dear ones." With that, she took her stick and departed from the room.

The man and the woman remained there a little while longer, gazing into the fire as they slipped their arms around each other's shoulders.

Now, it might have been a trick of the firelight, but some might have told you that there seemed to be a mark on the back of the man's hand. A mark in the shape of the Triforce.

"So what do you think's going to happen to Link and Zelda next?" the man asked nonchalantly.

"Who knows? I guess we'll find out at the next story time," the woman said with a wink.

"I can't wait."

And the fire danced and crackled and threw shadows, ever changing and shifting, on the wall.

 **xLoZx**

Reviews welcome! (But it's my first Legend of Zelda fanfic, so please be gentle.)


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